I Wanna Hold Your Hand
by precious-passenger
Summary: It's Sam's special day and John manages to be a total jerk about it. Teenchesters. One Shot. Complete. For my wonderful friend, lequeenofmoondoor. Happy Birthday :)


**A/N: This is for my friend ****_lequeenofmoondoor_, previously known as _KlainebowHollowsRumbleroar. _It's also my 50th work on this site and well, that's like something too! You're an awesome friend, M, and you've helped me through a lot of crap. You're basically like my little Sammy. Even though I probably won't see you and get to give you anything more than stories and big squishy hugs. Happy Birthday, you weirdo. Don't ever change.**

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><p><strong><em>THEN<em>**

"John, can I ask you something?" Mary said, hands sprawled on her husband's stomach and drawing random circles.

"Depends on the question," he said with a smile, his hand brushing on her side. She made a small noise.

"Well, it's a difficult question to ask. Actually, it's not really a question."

"Okay then. What-" her husband said, laughing silently to himself.

"John... I want us to try for a baby."

A baby...

John sat up abruptly to look at his wife. "What?"

"I want a baby."

He licked his lips, trying to find words. "Mary, isn't it too early?"

She stared at him and held his hand on her cheek. "Love... Dean is three years old. I want a baby that he can call his sister... o-or brother." She closed his eyes for a second then opened them. They were shining with unsaid emotions. "I want to have another child with you, John."

"I'm confused. I don't think we're ready just yet," he sighed, biting his lip nervously. "Mary, I-I don't know."

"You're a wonderful father, John. You have a kind heart, great love, amazingly beautiful," Mary grinned. "Our kid would be magnificent. Just like Dean. We can do this."

"Do you really think so?" John asked, wonder in his eyes.

Mary sat up, her left hand grabbing John's and giving it a small squeeze. "I know so."

John rested his forehead on her wife's and gave her a small peck on the lips... His left hand tangled into her hair, kissing her again, letting his hands loose in her blonde hair.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too," Mary replied, as she pressed her forehead against John's and stared into his eyes. "What do you say then?"

"About what?" he asked, baffled. Mary's lips were a definite distraction.

"About having a baby."

"I'd be honored to have another child with you," John said, his eyes soft and pressed a small kiss to his wife's knuckles.

"Well then, what are we waiting for?" Mary said with a wink, straddling John and leaning in for a deep kiss.

* * *

><p><strong><em>NOW<em>**

John walked towards the motel room, the single key twirling around his finger. The hunt had been finished sooner that he had anticipated.

"Sir, do you happen to know where room 206 is?" a young man, barely even eighteen, dressed in what appeared to be a delivery attire approached him, taking in his battered clothes and unshaven face with disgust.

"That's my room," the hunter sighed.

"Oh, well. Would you like me to bring it there?" the delivery guy asked.

"Nah, I'll pay. How much is it?"

"Fifteen dollars."

"That's kinda expensive," the hunter remarked.

"Well, yes, sir. That's why we don't get that many orders from this neighborhood. It's also the reason I got lost," the boy replied, scrunching up his nose in disgust.

John rolled his eyes as he dialled his son's number to check that the pizza was actually theirs. His eyes widened in alarm when it informed him that the number couldn't be reached.

"Sir? Is everything alright?" the pizza man asked, obviously bored.

"Fine," the eldest Winchester grumbled, paying him with the remaining money in his pockets. "And 206 means second floor and the sixth room. It's pretty much a standard arrangement," John informed him coldly and the young boy, not much older than his son, Dean, ducked his head and scattered away as John marched towards their motel room.

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><p><em><strong>THEN<strong>_

John rubbed Mary's knuckles with his thumb. Mary leaned over him and kissed him gently. He kissed her back again and pulled away with a grin on his face. Having Mary in the garage was making John burst with pride.

"Is there a reason you're here?" he asked.

"Do you want a reason?" she replied, smirking.

John grinned. "Call it a lucky guess."

The words just seemed to spill out of Mary. "I'm pregnant."

John's expression looked shocked yet happy. "What?"

"I'm pregnant!" she repeated with an excited tone. She took John's calloused hand to lie across her stomach. "We're having a baby, John!"

He let a huge smile break onto his face and picked up Mary in his arms, spinning her around the garage.

Later, he'd bought a can of beer and shared with his coworkers, happiness filling him that he could barely contain himself.

* * *

><p><em><strong>NOW<strong>_

John wasn't prepared for the sight he met when he opened the door and entered the room they were supposed to be staying at. The room was a mess and his boys… Well, Sam was jumping up and down in the bed and Dean… well, he had no idea what Dean was supposed to be doing. But damn if the thing in his hand was fireworks...

"You made it, Dad," Sam's voice was warm and open, his eyes shining and it took John by surprise when the boy ran to his side and threw his arms around him.

"Thank you," Dean mouthed to him and it made John even more surprised.

"Dad?"

"Not now, Sam," John dismissed him and turning to his eldest son he asked, "Dean?"

"Yes sir?"

"I called you at 1330. Why didn't you pick up? Did Sam do something..."

That would explain why his youngest son appeared to be extra cuddly today. Something was up.

Dean shrunk at the authority in his father's voice. "It's my fault, sir" he whispered. John tried to maintain eye contact while still checking out the room.

"Come again?"

"It's my fault. I must've forgotten to charge the cell phone" Dean flinched.

"Why do you think I spend money on things like a cell phone? What if something happened?" John scolded.

"I'm sorry, sir," he muttered.

"That's not enough! What have I taught you? You obviously haven't been working hard enough." John barked. "Both of you."

He took in the discarded plates of take-out food scattered around the room. He scowled when he realized that the weapons hadn't been cleaned. The table was a mess of stacks of papers and laundry was here and there.

"Also, would you care to explain why would you waste 15 dollars on a pizza?"

"It's Sammy's favorite," Dean mumbled helplessly. And John gaped. He would have to make both his sons work harder.

"You're coddling him too much, Dean. We can't afford it."

"But..."

"No buts. How many laps did you run today?"

Both boys were silent and John took a few steps towards them.

"How many?" he almost roared, making his youngest jump.

"We didn't," Dean answered.

"You what?" the hunter said with a deathly calm in his voice.

"I'm sorry, Dad. But, I thought today..."

"I didn't raise you to be some lazy bag of cellulitis. I'm going to take a shower and when I'm done, this room better be clean. Or help me I will... " he said, letting the threat hang in there as he made his way to the bathroom after dumping the pizza box on the table.

"Let me help" he heard Sam say quietly. Dean went to stop him, but Sam made it clear that it wasn't a proposition as he picked some of the laundry.

"Hey, we both made this mess. I won't let dad put this all on you," the youngest stated. It earned him a thankful smile from his big brother and they got to work in silence.

They had cleaned the mess long before John came back to the room. He took in the set table and the clean dishes before giving his other set of punishment. He had thought long and hard about what it should be.

"You're going to do five laps around the motel. Then you're coming straight here to give me fifty pushups and eighty situps. Understood?"

"But, Dad. I'm hungry," Sam pleaded, his voice whiny. John resisted the urge to smack one right on his head and sat on the cleared table and opened the pizza box, taking a slice. He watched them meaningfully, as if saying 'What are you waiting for?'. The boys proceeded with wearing their shoes and warming up, ready to do laps.

On the pizza was written "Sammy: Pain in the Butt" and John rolled his eyes.

* * *

><p><em><strong>THEN<strong>_

John Winchester had barely got in the home when he found Mary, clutching her stomach and barely coherent.

"It's time, John. It's time. The baby's coming."

A full month early.

Dean had already been dropped off at the neighbor's house, so John raced to the hospital as fast as his Chevy Impala could go.

It had taken thirteen hours of labor before Dean was born. This child took fifteen. Mary was alternating between screaming and crying and John tried to stay as calm as possible, but inside he was freaking out as the time dragged by. Please let my child be okay, he prayed silently as he let Mary grip his hand to the point of grinding bones together, never wincing at the pain because she clearly needed him to be the strong one right now.

Finally, the baby's tiny head emerged, followed quickly by the rest of its body. "It's a boy," one nurse announced. John froze, Mary's nails digging into his palm.

"It's a boy, Mr. Winchester."

"Sam," Mary breathed out, before collapsing in exhaustion.

* * *

><p><em><strong>NOW<strong>_

The boys had been wiped when they finished their training. They didn't even approached the food and instead collapsed on the bed they had to share. John reviewed the notes he'd taken for the next hunt and was surprised when he heard the quietest whisper of his oldest son.

"Ssh, Sammy. It's going to be alright," he said.

"He didn't remember. I hate him, Dean. I hate him," Sam said, his voice low but filled with anger. John strained his ears to hear some more.

"You want me to tell you a secret?" Dean asked.

"Yeah. Tell me," Sam urged, obviously intrigued.

"You know how cool kids celebrate their birthday?"

"How?" he asked, the sadness gone from his voice completely.

"They do it nine days after the original day."

"Why?"

"Because it's so much cooler, silly! Everybody celebrates their birthday on the exact day. But, nobody would celebrate it nine days after. Got it?"

"Okay, Dean. If you say so," he relented, yawning and burying his head into his big brother's shoulders.

* * *

><p><em><strong>THEN<strong>_

Later that day, John brought Dean to the hospital room his mother was in. Dean craned his neck up so he could stare at the little bundle in Mary's arms, his eyes impossibly wide. "I'm a big brother now?"

"You are," John answered with a small smile.

"And big brother's are supposed to take care of little brothers, right?"

John was starting to wonder just where Dean was going with this. "Right," he said.

Dean nodded his head, long hair bouncing around his face as he continued to stare at the small baby. "So he's my Sam."

"I…" John was slightly taken aback by Dean's logic and slight possessiveness.

"I guess he is," Mary answered, her smile warming John's heart and making the whole room shine brighter.

"My Sam… Sammy. He's Sammy, and I'm his big brother." Dean shot John a bright smile before looking back at Sam again, standing on his tiptoes to catch a better look. "Me and Mommy and Daddy are gonna take care of you, okay?" He promised, stroking Sam's little hand cautiosly with his finger. At that moment Sam's eyes opened and he regarded Dean with a thoughtful expression, before bursting into tears.

"What's wrong? Did I do something wrong?" Dean asked, panicked, taking a few steps back.

"He's just hungry, Dean. You didn't do anything wrong," John explained as Mary started feeding little Sam.

"I love you, Sammy," Dean whispered, "and I'm always gonna look out for you."

* * *

><p><em><strong>NOW<strong>_

Just as John moved towards the little kitchen and poured himself a glass of whiskey, it hit him.

Nine days…

John would be leaving for another hunt in nine days…

John had felt that his boys would always be close. But, not like this. He'd brought this on himself. If he'd been there for these boys like he wasn't supposed to, they wouldn't depend on each other so much. They would come to him for advice. They should be looking at their father for direction instead of turning towards each other.

It was second day of May and like most other days, John Winchester was reminded why he was a bad father.

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><p><strong>AN: This fic is completely unbeta'ed, so you'd know how much **_**lequeenofmoondoor **_**works on my stories to make it presentable! I'd be lost without her. Merry Christmas and have a great holiday, everyone.**


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